Unexpected
by adultsupervision
Summary: Dustfinger is reunited with Meggie years after their tale ends.


Dustfinger almost smiled as the moonlight spilled across the small lake he was approaching, that enchanted his emotions to almost hope that something big was coming. He moved soundlessly through the few trees left in the wood he was leaving and carefully approached the edge of the lake. As he squatted down to gently stir ripples in the calm water, all was quiet, even the buzz of fairies were barely audible as he dried his hand on his shirt. The moon was like his personal spotlight and made the grass glitter with late night dew as he found a spot to camp. It was as if his nose could smell the sweetness of the thin blades renewing themselves for morning. As he was about to sit, and rest upon the peaceful scenery he heard rustling to his right, followed by a sharp snap of a branch or twig. He immediately reached for the knife he carried with him, though he hated using it, and drew it from somewhere in his clothing. Before he could properly prepare himself, a figure emerged from the trees and stumbled into the tiny clearing, swearing quietly as if no one else could hear. And who would? He could see it was a woman, her curves were clear under what appeared to be a dress, delicately clinging to her skin. He withdrew his knife and quickly hid it among his person again as if he were as foolish as a child. The silhouette of the woman had not noticed him yet, as she stared up at the sky, seeming to try to get a hold of her surroundings. Her hair was long, past her shoulders and judging her stature had to be young. He cleared his throat as to not frighten her, but she jumped all the same. She looked back to the trees as if to run, but she stayed where she was. Dustfinger held up his hands as a gesture he was not to hurt her but to help her and tried to open his mouth to say something, anything to this poor lost girl. She broke the long silence that seemed to be holding both of them back, and everything was still almost as if locked in a painting.

"Dustfinger…?" She whispered so quietly he wasn't sure if it was her or the fairies calling his name back from where he had come. He blinked slowly as if caught in a daze and she was slowly moving toward him. She stepped through the moonlight swiftly and gracefully like she was made for enticing men in shadows. "It has been a long time." Suddenly the voice seemed more familiar and her face was lit by the reflection of the lake dancing with the moon. Meggie smiled at him, a different smile then what he once knew. He smiled in return and relaxed as she drew closer.

"Meggie, what are you doing way out here?" She finally was standing in front of him, a look of wonder on her face. She simply raised her hand and brushed it down his face where his scars had once rested. Her hands were cold, like death was upon them.

"Yes, long ago I decided to live here on my own. That was almost 4 years ago. I live in Roxane's old cottage on the plain not far from Ombra. I was attacked and ran blindly into the forest. I've been lost out here for days; you don't know how wonderful it is to see you." _Four years…._he thought to himself as he tried to guess how old she was now. _Nineteen years old. _

"Are they still after you?" he asked scanning the trees from where she emerged carefully. She bit her lip and looked down at her feet. _Still so innocent. _

"I don't know. I think I lost them after the first day, I haven't had any trouble since." He finally took a step back to look at her fully. Her thin white dress appeared ghost-like on her now full figure, her face looking much the same but more mature. Her lips were fuller, her eyes glowing with age and defiance. Her cheek bones that were once round, are now sharp and high on her face. Yes, she was definitely grown up. There was a cut on her forehead and more on her arms and legs. The dress stopped at her knees and he blushed at the thought that they might be higher. _You haven't blushed since Roxane would tease you. _He cursed himself and tried to clear any thoughts similar from his mind.

"You can stay with me at my camp if you would like. I know there is nothing here yet, I just got here myself." He quickly gathered dry leaves for her to sleep on and called a small fire to dance. She lowered herself slowly next to the flame, not as if she were afraid but as if seeing an old friend. She involuntarily gave a small shiver through her small frame and he made the flames comfort her. He looked through his small leather bag for the only cloth he had and carefully dipped into the lake and made sure it was damp. He kneeled next to her and hesitantly wiped the blood away from her forehead, his mouth watering after smelling her hair.

Meggie was so surprised to see her old friend Dustfinger among the endless maze of forest, just as much he seemed to be. He looked at her differently than he had when she was a mere child, tagging along as an annoyance. She wished she had been better prepared for meeting him in these circumstances, but sneaking out of your own home in the middle of the night wasn't the best time to plan your attire. She hadn't felt any warmth since the first night lost in the darkness, her hands numb all the way to her forearm as if she were already dead. Maybe she was. Seeing his face on the other side of the lake though, made her skin feel anew with warmth that he always seemed to carry with him, as if flames were something he carried in his pocket. She couldn't help but touch his face where his scars had been, and the warmth from his skin seemed to anchor into her nerves. Now, sitting in front of the fire with him, she felt like that same little girl who used to watch him save her father. She winced when he was dabbing at her forehead, not away from his touch but the pain. She looked down and tried to steal a glance at him, but he was staring at her. Embarrassed she let her hair fall in front of her face and she tried to look preoccupied with her hands.

"So, are things much different in Ombra?" he asked casually leaning on his elbow, gazing at her. She looked up and thought for a moment.

"Not too much. I don't think anyone realizes who I am anymore. Everything is a lot more peaceful now, at least until the other night when those large men broke in." She shuddered at the thought and crossed her arms in front of her as if to block the memory out. He slowly moved closer to her and examined the cuts on her arms and legs. Before he could ask what they were from she tried to cover them with her hands. "There were thorn bushes, I fell a lot from running. I hit my head on a rock in a cave. I guess I shouldn't run away when I'm not familiar with the area." He smirked at her and made the fire do a trick or two.

"At least you got out safe. Clumsy and all, I always seem to somehow be rescuing you Silvertongues." He paused and looked at her wounds more. "Do you mind…?" he gestured to the cuts. She shook her head and straightened her legs out in front of her. Dustfinger traced his finger on the largest ones on her calves. Meggie felt some heat pulse out of his fingers and the cut diminished a little. When he was finished they sat there for a moment, barely touching each other, looking at the fire. She didn't know why she enjoyed his company a lot more now than when she was younger, but she found herself staring at his face that seemed so young. His golden hair seemed to shine next to the flame and his eyes met hers with intensity. She quickly looked away but his hand pushing her hair back made her look at him again. "Meggie…" he whispered. She watched her name slip off his lips and his breath make her breathing pick up. He had a habit of leaving behind warm heat then giving one goose bumps from touch and it made Meggie's spine tingle. As she drew in a breath to gasp at herself, and her feelings, Dustfinger's lips were on hers. He tasted like the very fire he controlled and befriended, like sparks and soot that blended deliciously into the heat that she felt as she grabbed his shoulder to steady herself. She felt his hair fall against her face and she smiled under the lips that melted like butter against hers. _This is so wrong, he's twice your age! _She mentally rolled her eyes at the voice of reason because now his other hand was in her hair and she wanted nothing more than to get closer to the fire that threatened to burn her. He smelt of the wood and fairy dust, reminding her that he was made of words and ink, not flesh. Suddenly her courage and thirst for adventure made her not care who or what she was doing, it was her life. Finding her new energy, she put both her hands on his shoulders and pushed him into the grass next to the fire.


End file.
